I knew the season finale of Real Husbands of Hollywood would be touch-and-go the minute it opened with Mr. Eloquence, the overly flamboyant gay man who planned the KevLita baby shower extravaganza, suddenly throwing himself at Kevin Hart mere minutes into the episode. Although many media depictions might suggest otherwise, most gay men know that hitting on a straight guy is a complete waste of time, so they don’t bother. I get the “joke,” but I also know that at this point it’s a cheap and lazy way to seek a laugh. Moreover, it feels very nineties sitcom-esque — the same of which can be said about much of the humor and the structure of this two-episode, hour-long finale.

Now after Mr. Eloquence sashayed away (presumably into a black hole), Kevin seized the opportunity to ask Selita Ebanks if she has been faking her pregnancy the whole time. She responded with a resounding “Duh, you idiot” and somehow ended up beating Kevin with the very padding she used to pull her pregnancy ruse. Duane Martin entered the room minutes later, helped separate the two, and along with Selita, worked to convince Kevin to join in on the scam.

Their sales pitch was essentially the Rick Ross line "Money money money money money bags" line from Birdman’s “Born Stunna.” That selling point got Kevin to promptly align himself with the paternity equivalent of the Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries marriage (allegedly). So much so that when he found out that Pennzoil offered $1.5 million for the naming rights to one of their children, he thought, “Let’s get double and name the fake girl Pennzoila.”

I paused for a bit to question aloud whether or not there’s an actual human being walking around answering to the name of Pennzoila. The short answer is probably.

Unfortunately, their little mischievous plan went to hell once the trio took a promotional trip to Gymboree. There, Selita’s fake baby bump – which included an umbilical cord for effect – ended up hanging out of her dress. Screams erupted while I started to scratch my head so hard you would’ve thought ticks were performing the choreography to all seventeen of Beyoncé’s new videos on top of my head.

Duane argued that it was much ado about nothing, quipping that since the incident happened in the Valley, there’s no way it’ll end up on the news. You know, ’cause no one cares about the Valley. This is so untrue because I definitely heard about DeVante Swing of Jodeci fame being drunk at a Subway in Burbank.

And then the world found out about Kevin and Selita’s ill-conceived and even more poorly executed lil’ stunt. The news prompted Kevin to lose both his gig hosting the Oscars (dream big, Mr. Hart) and his clout with the public at large once Selita started making the media rounds to paint him as the mastermind of the whole farce. Enter a Katie Couric cameo, which further proved just how much the show’s success in its first season along with Kevin Hart’s rising star power has done to boost the network.

That said, while it was nice to see Katie – who I feel like probably watched Video Soul or at least half an episode of Teen Summit on BET back in the day – some of her lines felt a little, uh, reductive.

Katie: “I’m here for you, sista.”Selita: “Thank you, boo.”

This line might’ve been cute if I was recording it on my VCR, but I’m not so it’s not.

As wild as this is all sounds, it gets crazier. After all of this takes place, the FBI shows up at Kevin’s house. Why? The hell if I know and I went back and rewatched both episodes. But that happened and Kevin ends up at a motel, hanging outside of a window, facing certain death. The rest of the husbands – who have been an afterthought for at least half the season – rush out to save him, only one of them falls and we’re left with a cliffhanger.

That scene reminded me of an old episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Suffice to say if this show doesn’t pull it together, it might as well leap off the cliff with whatever cast member that fell. When it lives up to its title, the show is hilarious. When it ventures into being more like a traditional sitcom, it’s just kind of confusing.

I hope in the next season, we get more Bobby Brown; more Nick Cannon; more Chris Rock; more of the wives; and more guest stars like Mariah Carey, as originally promised. And try to get Robin Thicke back.

Reality TV, particularly in the mode this show seeks to parody, has only gotten more ridiculous. See: Love & Hip Hop: Atlanta, Braxton Family Values, Preachers of LA, and Peter Gunz (he’s his own whole genre of ridiculous now). It has to poke fun at that more. I also like the idea of Kevin making this show his negro Curb Your Enthusiasm. Consistency is key, though, and this season missed that.

But it’s been fun recapping it all the same. Thank you for reading!

Other notes:

Stop trying to make fetch happen with “mitch,” a.k.a. the remix of bitch. It’s run a marathon, but let it rest and settle for a second.

When Kevin said in his motel room, “I gotta pee and the moscato ran through me”: He hadn’t sipped anything. It was in the bag the whole time.

Was Kevin telling Shaun Robinson that when he thought he was having sex with Selita, it turned out to be a blowup doll, like some tribute to Lars and the Real Girl? Confusing.

Duane Martin’s defense of Tisha Campbell’s head is a win for all those with domes: “My wife doesn’t have a big head, she has a big face.”